Thursday, November 20, 2014

"Afeared or not, it is an act of deepest love to allow oneself to be stirred

by the wildish soul of another."

- Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Wild. That's what we all are. When we can get past the nice-ities of pseudo-community, the kind in which we're just trying to keep the peace, and the conversion stage, where we're all trying to convince the other that "I'm right and you have to change to suit my idea/belief system/dogma etc," then we can actually get down to the business of real relationship.

Showing up and exposing yourself to community is brave.

Community slowly tears out all the dark things you've been trying to hide, things you may not have even known you were hiding: those built in habits instilled from childhood, feelings of unworthiness and shame, insecurities--oh the insecurities--that I'm not enough, that no one can handle me, that I'm alone in this because everyone just wants me to change instead of being me.

Community struggle coupled with sleep deprivation from my overnight shifts had left me exhausted. For two days I refreshed myself in Sedona, climbing red rocks, napping in sunlit vortexes, and reminding myself of astounding beauty I had almost forgotten.

My schedule is changing now and I will no longer be doing overnight shifts. I am getting myself back into a rhythm, one that suits my nature. I thrive within routine and structure. During this time of transition in our community as my best friend Taylor moves in with us, I am creating space for myself to find life in the mornings before my housemates are awake. I slip quietly out the door with my dog and we jog to Delicias Park--Delights Park-- to spend the morning delighting in life, in gratitude, and in reflection. By the time I get home, my housemates are up and we get ready for whatever that day brings: grocery shopping, house repairs, conflict resolution, job hunting, volunteering, hanging out with neighbors, crafts.

As Taylor moves in with us tomorrow, I am anticipating more changes. As a community we have been struggling to find our feet, our grounding, our rhythm. This whole community thing is a whole lot different without a program telling us how to do it. We started out with structures in place much like Mission Year, but as time went on we discovered that the structure wasn't fitting us. It was like putting on an outfit from high school that was just too tight. We tried wearing it for a while, but eventually buttons started popping off and the zipper wouldn't zip and we realized we just weren't made for this. We are taking our time to figure out what each of us envisions for this community, how we find life within it and what is it we want to see happen in our neighborhood and within ourselves. As we brainstorm together, we are building a community that fits us, not trying to shove ourselves into some idealized community outfit that just doesn't fit.

"When two people relate to each other authentically and humanly, God is the electricity that surges between them." -Martin Buber

May you seek ways to relate to others authentically and humanly to experience the God-electricity that emerges.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

“Did you ever say yes to a pleasure? Oh my friends, then you
also said yes to all pain. All things are linked, entwined, in love with one
another.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

I meditated on this Nietzsche quote as I sat on my yoga mat the other morning. I found it while flicking almost mindlessly through the goodies on my tumblr feed. It stopped me suddenly.

I say yes to pleasure all the time: loving someone, investing in a relationship, arranging succulents, writing poetry, journaling, long talks, getting excited about simple pleasures. I consent to beauty and pleasure. I was, however, struggling with pain when it presented itself in my life. An unmet expectation, miscommunication, a change of plans, feeling unloved. I had not consented to this pain. I wanted vulnerability and deep relationship without the pain that inevitably came with them.

As I sat on my yoga mat, breathing deeply, letting the sunlight flicker through the windows, I decided to consent to pain, to embrace the pain that comes with pleasure. I want to feel deeply, love deeply, live deeply. I can only do that if I know I will be hurt and consent to the pain I will feel if I decide to invest my time and love into someone/something. I will be hurt and disappointed, but I will not die. I will continue to love deeply and intentionally and be hurt in the process. I think it's worth it.